Page 5 of Tristian (The Doherty Mafia)
I wrapped my arms around myself like I had a stomach ache. I almost doubled over with the pain. Tristian watched me closely. Did I detect concern in his eyes? Why would he be concerned about me? Why would he care?
“My father…he had known…been associated with Aldo for a while,” I began.
Tristian clenched his jaws. It was like a light bulb went off in his head, and he finally made sense of it.
“So your dad has been a part of this world.”
I had to look away. Talking about my father now, knowing everything I knew—made it even harder. Even more painful.
“I still don’t know to what extent he’d been involved with Aldo. But he had always kept me away from it. I never had an inkling, growing up, that this was going on in the background.”
“How was he involved with Aldo?”
I shook my head.
“I don’t know. Nobody has given me an honest answer. I don’t believe anything Aldo or his men say. All I knew was Dad ran a moderately successful business.”
“What kind of business?”
“He had a pawn shop,” I said.
Tristian sat down on the couch with a thump while I stood at some distance from him. Every time he moved and I saw the way his muscles moved under his clothes, I felt an obscene tingle between my legs. A wave of desire washed over me and I was filled with guilt.
I couldn’t understand it. How could I be attracted to this man? This man who was so dangerous to me. Who’d kill me. That’d solve all their problems, right?
“So how did you find out what was really going on? How did you become involved with Aldo?” Tristian continued.
“It was when Aldo decided my father wasn’t doing enough to pay back the money he supposedly owed. I don’t understand how…why…he’d been so foolish to owe money to a man like Aldo. My father was not a stupid man. He may have been a liar and a deceiver.” I spoke in a feverish jumble, more to myself now, than to him.
I was just trying to make sense of the thoughts in my head. Trying to straighten out all the things I felt for my father.
“Why do you keep referring to him in the past tense? Where is he now?”
That caught my attention. I looked up at Tristian who waited for an answer. Maybe he’d figured out the answer before I even said the words. I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to get them out. They were stuck in my throat.
“Aldo…he killed my father. He murdered both my parents right in front of my eyes,” I said.
I went to stand by the window again. I needed to look out because I craved the distraction. The view of the river calmed me a little. It reminded me of the summer we had spent by the lake that year. Rivers and lakes would always have that effect on me. They’d forever remind me of Dad.
“I was back home, visiting my parents for their anniversary. I’d just graduated college and had been hunting around for jobs. I’d even been offered a few positions, good jobs. I hadn’t decided which one to accept yet and wanted to go spend some time with my parents before diving into a new chapter in my life.”
I had my back turned to Tristian because I didn’t want to see the reaction on his face while I narrated the story.
“Anyway, so I was back home for a few days. Everything was normal. Nothing seemed suspicious. Mom baked and cooked all day long. All my favorite meals, you know. Dad said he took some time off work so he could spend time with me. I was happy to be home.”
I stopped and looked over my shoulder. Tristian hadn’t said a word, he’d barely even moved, so I didn’t know if he was still listening.
He was. In fact, he sat on the edge of his seat, staring at me.
“And then one night after dinner, without any warning, there was a knock on the door and a stranger walked in with an entourage of intimidating men. Well, he was a stranger to me, but not to my Dad. Not even to my mom. Turned out, she’d been in on it too. I was the only one who had no idea about my Dad’s involvement with the mafia.”
I had to hold out my hands and grip the glass window for support. I wasn’t sure I would’ve been able to stand on my own. The memories of that night flashed through my head and I closed my eyes. It was unbearable. I saw everything. Every last detail of Aldo’s face as he smiled at us. The gold signet rings on his fingers, the strong scent of whiskey on his breath as he shook my hand.
